[ All that intensity wasn't just in his head and when Kavinsky oh-so-tactfully points it out, he can feel his entire body flush with a mixture of shy embarrassment and downright humiliation. What the hell was he thinking? Why did he let it go this far? Why the fuck hadn't he just stayed home tonight?
Ronan keeps his eyes averted, keeps his focus on everything else possible, trying to ignore Kavinsky but being unable to ignore the press of his body still against his. And even when that's gone, the feeling of his come still staining his fingers.
This stupid boy who's so edgy and always insists on black ends up with a mess of white down the front of his shirt -- which he's not sure if he'll keep hidden away forever or burn at the first chance he gets. Likely the former.
His shirt is ruined, his sweats are ruined, his pride is hanging on by a thread that Kavinsky cuts swiftly by moving away from him and promptly urging him to leave. Thrown aside like just another name on Kavinsky's endless list of others, thrown out like there's some other waiting just around the corner. Unremarkable. And it feels like the entire world has been flipped upside down.
What happened to Kavinsky's constant repeating of "Just us"? He figured it would have been the very first thing out of the boy's mouth.
Ronan looks down at himself, he's a mess of Kavinsky's come and his own shame that's not fit for the entire population of San Junipero to see. Or for anyone to see -- he doesn't even want to look at himself. ]
Can I wash up, or something?
[ If he didn't feel demeaned enough, asking that certainly did the trick. ]
no subject
Ronan keeps his eyes averted, keeps his focus on everything else possible, trying to ignore Kavinsky but being unable to ignore the press of his body still against his. And even when that's gone, the feeling of his come still staining his fingers.
This stupid boy who's so edgy and always insists on black ends up with a mess of white down the front of his shirt -- which he's not sure if he'll keep hidden away forever or burn at the first chance he gets. Likely the former.
His shirt is ruined, his sweats are ruined, his pride is hanging on by a thread that Kavinsky cuts swiftly by moving away from him and promptly urging him to leave. Thrown aside like just another name on Kavinsky's endless list of others, thrown out like there's some other waiting just around the corner. Unremarkable. And it feels like the entire world has been flipped upside down.
What happened to Kavinsky's constant repeating of "Just us"? He figured it would have been the very first thing out of the boy's mouth.
Ronan looks down at himself, he's a mess of Kavinsky's come and his own shame that's not fit for the entire population of San Junipero to see. Or for anyone to see -- he doesn't even want to look at himself. ]
Can I wash up, or something?
[ If he didn't feel demeaned enough, asking that certainly did the trick. ]